Post by 0pandora0 on Dec 17, 2012 4:29:08 GMT -5
The camera changes to a black screen, a mans voice can be heard as he speaks sharply and mysterious, like a story teller.
A small human only pretends to die,
he wanted to be completely alone.
The small heart stood still for hours,
So they decided it was dead.
it is being buried in wet sand,
With a present in his hand.
MUSIC BOX
The camera opens up to show a young woman in a black dress alongside a female child also dressed in a black dress, but longer than the older females. The older female holds the standing child by her, who is short enough to be the size of the women sitting on her knees. The snow barely brushes them with cold Christmas snowflakes as they dance along with the breath of Earth before collecting on the ground. The trees have died along the hills in the background and are awaiting their Spring rebirth, and overlooking the tombstones of the deceased.
The camera stays back, but walks along side of the two grieving females who stand short of the tombstone that looks freshly dug. New flowers and little toys are along the simple headstone. The camera man comes in a little closer to show that the eldest of the two females is no other then Pandora, The Innocent. Her tears that roll down her cheek are dyed black from her eyeliner, making her almost look like The Crow on her white porcelain skin. As the camera draws quietly closer begins to eavesdrop on Pandora and the child’s conversation. The young child sadly speaks beside Pandora as they gaze onto the headstone in ruin…
He really liked you. Since you joined his favorite wrestling show he can became a big fan. He talked about how pretty you are and tough… he even was going to marry a Pandora someday… he wanted to be either a wrestler, or a singer in a band. For Christmas I bought him a small music box, like you have… but he never got to see it. Its with him, unopened in the ground.
She girls cries out at the words, someday. The hard lump in her throat, trying to rip out causes her to choke up on her tears. She holds back, but the damn breaks and the water pours from her eyes. Pandora holds the girl tighter, and tries to bring the subject off the deceased child they are mourning over.
A long time ago, when I was just a little older than you my mother died in a house fire. She as asleep in her bed, and I was too but awoke from a bad dream. As I laid there trying to sleep, smoke had begun to fill the bedroom. I ran out in time to see the hallway gulped into flames. I remember crying, and screaming for my family but no family came. I looked out the window, thought about jumping but was too scared. Then anger filled me and I went back through the hall and to my mothers room. The floor collapsed and sent me to the bottom floor, on top of the stairs. Her room was destroyed, and I knew her and my soon to be brother was gone. I just sat there, in the living room staring out the door until help came. It was so hard a first, but as my life went on I realized that they never died, but continued to live inside me.
The girl hugs Pandora tightly. In the far distance a mother’s call draws the child’s attention. The little girl gives Pandora another hug. She flees off out of the scene. Pandora reaches into a pocket in front of her dress. She lays the long card under a vase with beautiful blue and white flowers coming out. Pandora slowly stands up and sighs. She slowly begins to walk away in a different direction from the child. The camera walks to the headstone and zooms in on the card Pandora has left. It contains a small poem. The camera zooms into the writing and slowly begins to scroll down the card.
The first snow covers the grave
it woke the child very softly
in a cold winter night
the small heart is awakened
As the frost flew into the child
it wound up the music box
a melody in the breeze
and the child sings from the ground
The cold moon, in full magnificence
it hears the cries in the night
and no angel climbs down
only the snow cries on the grave
Between hard oak boards
it will play with the music box
a melody in the breeze
and the child sings from the ground
In the graveyard they heard
this melody from god's field
then they unearthed it
they saved the small heart in the child
The camera begins to fade out, as it turns black a small child can be heard singing, perhaps to a melody in the breeze before ending.
Up and down, winder
my heart does not beat anymore
Left and right,winder
My heart does not beat anymore
((Poem, narration, and end is credited to "Spieluhr" by Rammstein. A small tribute to the children who's Christmas was cut short this year. May they live young, free, and forever I have a 3 year old little girl, and can't barely phantom the pain the families are going through.))
Rest in Peace